


Your Kind of Red

by Berrygood



Category: Homestuck
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Humanstuck, Hurt/Comfort, they're just vibin in a gross bathroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berrygood/pseuds/Berrygood
Summary: I did this for school but didn't want to make it obvious that it was fanfic so basically yes this is dave and kk, and they're filled with that weird energy you get when you meet someone new under odd circumstances. Dave has a pet cockroach. Need anything else be said??
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Your Kind of Red

I saw you for the first time, sprawled out inside the grimy bathtub at Giovanni's. Your head was pressed up against a filthy stain on the tile walls, and the room was so full of cigarette smoke I could hardly breathe. It poured out the open door like a cancerous flood, winding and turning down the hallway until it dissipated, leaving a sheen on my skin. You looked at home among the filth, resigned, and when our eyes locked yours burned through mine like a wildfire. A cockroach skittered across your ankle, propped up on the rim of the tub and the bug stayed there and turned to face me, it’s eyes as red as yours. I finished coughing your smoke out of my lungs, and you watched. 

So we stood at a standstill, for several minutes it seemed, and nothing moved except for the slight shift in the beam of light bathing my shoes. 

“The door said vacant.” 

“Damn.” You said, and smoke poured from your lips.”I always forget to switch it over.” 

The cockroach shifted an antenna. You shifted a toe. 

“Uh, should I… go?” 

You propped yourself up more fully against the wall of the bathroom, and opened your mouth several times as if to speak. It took an eternity, probably two for you to finally say,” No... Stay. I mean, I mean, if you want to. Have a cig.” 

Your face was devoid of expression, but your voice wasn’t. I stepped over the threshold and slowly closed the door behind me. I clicked the lock, which made no sound as it settled into place. 

The room was darker with the door closed, more stuffy. The only light was falling through a small window on the far wall, above the bathtub. And now, with the atmosphere dim I could see your cigarette glowing, not with the normal small orange burn but a deep, smoky red, and it engulfed the entire surface. It cast a red tint on your dirty t-shirt, and bathed your fingers in flickering flame. It was the same color as your eyes. 

I walked towards you, past the grimy sink and mirror, and right up to the rim of the bathtub. My shoes disturbed the layer of dirt over the floor. You gestured with a wave of your hand to the toilet next to the bathtub, and I pulled the seat cover down and gingerly sat on the edge. You offered me the burning cigarette, and I watched my hand take it. 

“You don’t look 21.” I said. 

“Neither do you.” 

I put it to my lips and drew in a breath, eyes closed, shoulders tense. 

“Relax…” I heard you say, through a strange haze and I did. When I exhaled, I opened my eyes. Now you were sitting on the ledge of the bathtub, cockroach on your shoulder. Your hair was pushed back, dark roots showing through a white blonde. You looked worried. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah… yeah.” I handed the cig back to you, and you just held it in your hand and rubbed your foot on the side of the tub. 

We sat in silence for a while, a millenia, breathing. Existing. Your shoulders hunched in a distinctly human way, which was odd because I had decided by then that you certainly weren’t human. 

“Cigarettes will kill you, you know. Cancer.” I said. My voice was rough from the smoke. 

“I can’t die.” You said. Your brow furrowed. 

“Oh.” I replied. “I can.” 

“I know.” You said, and somehow you made the fact comforting. 

“I should probably get going.” You said, “I mean this is a public bathroom after all. Probs a line out the door of angry citizens and crying babies. Soon enough they’ll all be crapping their diapers waiting for a choice piece of this toilet.” 

“Let them.” I grumbled, and you smiled, faintly. 

I sighed. 

“I didn’t even come in here to use the bathroom. I came in here to wash away the sins of the greasy food this place of shit serves. Also to reflect on every mistake i’ve ever made.”

You nodded, and stubbed the cig out on your jeans. 

“Sorry to disrupt you daily scheduled depression hour.” 

“Screw off.” I said, and something heavy fell over the room.   
You folded the cigarette over in half, and then over again. I noticed your hands were criss-crossed in thin white scars. 

“Sorry-” You mumbled.

“It doesn’t matter.” I said. 

A pause.

“I came in here because this is the only bathroom i’ve seen with doors that go all the way to the floor. I wanted to see how much smoke I could build up.” You said, and you flicked the cig into the trash. 

“That’s stupid.” I said. 

“So are you.” 

Silence again, but the weight lifted.

“How long have we been in here?” I asked.

“Four and a half decades. Exactly.” 

I looked at you. You looked back. 

“You’re bs’n me.” I said. 

“I’m really, really not.” You sighed. “Don’t worry, it’ll snap back once you leave the room.” 

“Riiiight.” I said, but with your cig and your eyes I believed you.

Suddenly you rose, stretched your arms above your head and walked to the door, hand on the lock. 

“Wanna order some pizza?” You said, looking back at me. 

I got up. “What year are we talkin’?”

“Yours. You got a Dominos?” 

“Yeah,like, two blocks away.” 

“Works for me.” You said, and unlocked the door. Noise slipped back into existence. 

Your hair was overgrown in the back, and rumpled. 

“You comin’?” You said. 

“Yeah.”


End file.
